


The Complexities Of Fear (Scarecrow)

by SilverHalos88



Series: Batman: The Knightless Day [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Crime Scenes, Dark Love, F/M, Fear, Investigations, Mind Manipulation, Partners in Crime, Police, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, crime investigation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 12:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverHalos88/pseuds/SilverHalos88
Summary: Investigating the disappearance of one of their own was never going to be easy, but the secretive group known only as the Futurists is nothing if not resourceful. And Jonathon Timmes, PR manager and the real world identity behind one of Gotham's most infamous rogues, is one of the groups most resourceful members. He'll stop at nothing to discover the fate of his friend, but he may not be alone in the search...“In times of crisis and doubt, people have always looked to heroes to guide them. They give us hope and strength, offer us a place of safety in a world that often seems as if it has gone insane. But what if that desire for a saviour was in itself a threat? What if in trying to find the light, you only ended up deeper in the dark? As conspiracy clashes with reality and ‘The Futurists’ begin to make their final move, the world of the Dark Knight will come to realise only one thing is certain: truth is fragile thing, and sometimes it might be best to leave the lies alone…”
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Pamela Isley
Series: Batman: The Knightless Day [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2212179
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Everyone is afraid of something. It was something he had learned in his years of work and experimentation. Even those who on the surface seemed full of courage and bravado still held a slither of fear deep down within them. Often times it was those very people who were the most fearful. It was why they went to such lengths to hide it, to escape from it, and when exposed, they had most severe reactions. The truly fearless were those who knew their fears were a part of them, knew that it was an inherent and important part of their being that they couldn’t escape, and as such should be embraced. Those precious few knew that it was a weakness that could be turned into the greatest of powers if you could only master it, though saying it and doing it were two different things entirely. He didn’t know if anyone had truly managed it. Not even the Bat.   
Especially not the Bat.  
Jonathon ‘Johnny’ Timmes softly opened the door, and slipped inside. All the parts of the investigation were laid out before him. Somewhere in this room was the information he sought. He took a moment to look around. The room was some kind of briefing area, a work space big enough for a dozen people. There was a big center table filled with papers and folders, as well as dozens of different photos. Many of them showed the crime scene. It was gorier than what he had imagined. Stepping away from the door, he swiftly moved around the room, stopping only briefly to adjust the blinds at each of the windows that showed the wider floor of the building beyond. He didn’t need anyone seeing what he was doing here.  
By all rights, he shouldn’t even be here. If the people who worked in the station knew who he really was he wouldn’t have made it half way through the door before everyone pulled guns on him. The thought made Jonathon smile. Even if that had happened, it wouldn’t have stopped him. All it would take was a few capsules, thrown at the right moments, though even that might have been overkill. This was his real job after all, and it would be more fun making his way in like this.  
He didn’t need his tools to see these people’s fears. That was the benefit of his research; it was almost second nature for him now, to be able to look at a person and see all the things they wanted to keep hidden. It had proven beneficial in so many ways, and every time he used his skills, he was reminded of just how thankful he was for the opportunity to develop them in the first place. As a young undergraduate, no one would give him the time of day for his controversial research ideas. But then he had come along, and seen something more than just the tall freak everyone else saw. Jonathon had never regretted joining the Futurists. Being able to scare people this easy was incredible. He was a terror on Halloween.   
Jonathon pushed distracting thoughts aside and got to work. With focused eyes he looked over the files, flicking upon folders and scanning lines of text that seemed relevant. Much of it was pointless, though there were some useful bits that he quickly committed to memory. He was already seeing things that had clearly been missed. Not a pattern, but certainly something. His degree never covered detective training, after all,   
A knock on the door made his head spin.   
He instantly crossed back over to the door, his long legs covering the distance in a heartbeat. He pushed his weight against the door, then slowly opened it.   
“Is everything ok… sir?” The fat balding man on the other side of the door asked. The look of contempt was so blatant even a blind man could see it. Jonathon glared at the intruder.   
“I told you I’d tell you when I was done. Do not interrupt me again. Wouldn’t want you to have to run a physical now, would we? What would all the others say? Imagine how much they would laugh, how embarrassing that would be. Run along now little piggy, before I change my mind.” The man on the other side of the door sucked in a sharp breath, the sweat on his forehead glistening. There it was. It was in the man’s eyes, the way they widened with the all too evident beat of his heart. His pulse was racing, the vein in his neck throbbing as his eyes darted back and forth. Jonathon nodded away, and the man quickly turned and disappeared. He closed the door.  
Damn, that felt good.   
He almost felt bad for the man, but any feelings of guilt were pushed aside by the feeling of power that swelled through him. The thing was though, it wasn’t about making people afraid, it wasn’t about scaring them. He didn’t want to make people suffer, but there was something about fear that cut right to the heart of people, something that he believed nothing else in the world possessed to such a degree; fear could control people. That was something that never lost its attraction. It was a power in its right, impossible to deny, on par with the greatest abilities of even Superman.   
And he was the master of it.   
Yet, as soon as he looked back at the photos on the table, any intoxicating sense of power he felt quickly vanished. His eyes fixed on one picture in particular, a gruesome canvas of red. His heart sank, and a cold chill went up his spine.  
He was afraid. Oscar was his friend, and it made him shudder to think what might have happened to him.   
Coming here had been tough, but he was loyal to the Senator, and wouldn’t refuse a direct request to look into it. Given who Jonathon was in his real life, that could raise some questions, but it wouldn’t stop him. He was good at lying, though he had to admit, using his skills to demand his way into a police station had been a first.   
Behind him he heard the door to the room open again, and surge of irritation flooded his system. He spun around, fully prepared to let rip at the fat balding officer.  
It wasn’t him.   
In fact, it wasn’t an officer at all.


	2. Chapter 2

The changing room was cold. It was unlikely anyone had been in here since the incident had occurred. The entire area was still sealed off, yellow police tape plastered across all the doorways and windows, and inside little numbered markers were still set up across the bloody area. There were a lot of them.  
“At least he went down fighting.” A voice said, as two pairs of eyes looked over the scene.   
“There’s no proof he’s dead. At least not yet.” Jonathon Timmes said as he closed the door and switched on the rest of the lights. The blood only looked worse in the light. He took a slow breath, trying to ignore the taste of it that seemed to infect the air. As he looked around the room, he could almost see the event itself playing out before him. Someone had approached Oscar slowly, not trying to hide themselves. Oscar’s guard had been down. He hadn’t been ready when the assailant had pounced, smashing his head against the lockers. It must have made a deep cut, judging by the streak flowing across the metal, showing how Oscar had fallen back. At some point, he had started fighting back, but by then, it didn’t matter; whoever had been attacking him had the upper hand from the start. Oscar didn’t have a chance.   
“So come on, mister public relations man, what do you think?” The other figure in the room asked. Jonathon glared at them.   
“How about no. Why don’t you tell me the real reason why you’re here? Then we can start working.” He said, his voice hard. The other person fixed their eyes on him.  
“Come on Johnny, you know I can’t stay away from you. A girl has her needs.” Cassia Maple said as her lips curled into a deliciously devious grin. She walked towards him, every step careful but powerful, her very presence threatening to warp the air around her. That wasn’t just a metaphor, Jonathon knew. Even in her civilian identity, she still maintained access to some of her abilities, more so than even Wintum could explain. In a show of defiance, Jonathon took a deep breath as she joined him at his side.  
“You know damn well I’ve immunised myself against your pheromones.” He said, matching her stare. There was a moment of tension, like two vipers preparing to strike at each other.  
But then Cassia’s smiled shifted.  
It was warm and bright, and instantly Jonathon found himself returning the gesture.   
“It is good to see you, Cassia. I can’t believe he sent you though. I can handle this.” Cassia took another step towards him. She grabbed lightly at the lip of his jacket.  
“Well, Oscar going missing is quite an issue. But then, maybe I just wanted to see you.” She said slowly, and before he could do anything, she was there.  
The taste of her lips was like honey.   
All too soon, the kiss was over, though Jonathon couldn’t help but notice the longing look in her green eyes. It only lasted a moment, and was quickly replaced by her cunning narrowness.   
“Then again, you are just a glorified PR man. You could use all the help you can get.” There it was, the woman he was prepared for.  
The woman he-  
No. Now was not the time for such thoughts. As a ‘PR’ man, he had developed a strong sense of focus. It was a useful skill, one that went well with the others he had attained. It often amused him, when he was standing in the shadow of the stage while the senator addressed the crowds, how regularly people underestimated him and what he could do. They just saw him as another suit, another member of the entourage, little more than a glorified add on that sucked out a pay check. It made it easier for him to analyse them, to see past their defences and discover what really made them tick, what fears they worked so hard to conceal. A complex understanding of terror was remarkably helpful in the world of politics. Everyone was fighting to keep control of their supporters, to play up to their fears just so they could promise to protect them from them. It was a game he had mastered long ago, and it offered no end of subjects for his other experiments. In between his public work and his alter ego, he’d given the senator an advantage few could ever suspect, and fewer still could ever hope to match. Doing so was one of the greatest thrills of his life.  
The fact the senator paid him exceedingly well was just a bonus.  
“So do you have anything useful to offer? Or did you just want to distract me?” Jonathon asked, taking a glance out the window. Getting out of the police station had been easy enough, but he had learnt never to underestimate the chance of one lone fool ready to do something stupid. He’d been around the bat for a long time, after all. Cassia took a deep breath, longer than seemed natural.   
“There’s something in the air, a scent that’s wrong. It’s quite distinct from Oscar’s, though there’s something weird about it, as if someone tried to cover it up. Like they knew the markers I’d look for and tried to alter their distinction. Clearly they didn’t realise just how powerful I am.” Cassia said as she repeatedly sniffed the air.   
“Great. A smell. That’s something I can use.” Jonathon said dryly. You could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “I get information through fear. I was better use at the station. Hell, maybe I should ask the walls, see if they’ve heard anything.” Cassia either didn’t notice his sarcasm, or simply didn’t care. When she turned to him, he instantly knew which one it was.  
“I, I think I have an idea. More a hunch really, but it’s insane. It can’t be. He’d never go against us, not like this. Not now.” She said, an edge of fear in her voice. She was the one person he didn’t like to hear it from. He shook his head, instantly understanding what she was saying. He didn’t respond straight away, taking a moment to think through the implications.   
“It would certainly explain things.” He conceded, though the thought terrified him. “There’s no way he’d go off program though, not again.”   
“I need to go. I need to check some stuff, make sure this isn’t happening.” Cassia turned for the door. Jonathon chased after her and grabbed her arm. She glared accusingly at him, but was instantly taken aback by the softness in his eyes.  
“Cassia, be careful. Whatever’s going on, just be safe ok?” He said, his voice quiet. She smiled.  
“I’ll be fine. Just watch yourself. I’m not always around to watch your back.” She said with concern.  
“I’m going to stay here, look around some more. See if I can find anything, now that we know what we might be looking for. Good luck.” He replied, then in unison, both of them leant in towards each other. Their kiss was long and passionate, the kiss of two lovers separated by an impossible situation, yet still somehow determined to make it work. When they at last separated, neither of them said anything. Within a few seconds, Cassia had slipped out through the door, and he was left alone in a room full of blood.  
It wasn’t the first time, he mused.  
It couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t be. Not after everything they had done, not when they were this close to achieving their next, great milestone. Not when the Futurist were about to save the world. Not even he was that crazy.   
Jonathon didn’t know how long had passed since Cassia had left. As soon as the door closed, he had been lost inside his thoughts, trying to understand the implications of what might be happening to them all. It was only when the door to the changing room opened once again that he snapped from his stupor. He turned, glad for the distraction, but any joy was quickly lost.  
It wasn’t Cassia.  
“You’ll never stop us.” Jonathon said as the figure approached. He stepped backwards, fumbling with the fear pellets still in his pocket. “You’re a fool for even thinking you could try. We own you. We’ve always owned you. Or have you forgotten that, -”  
Jonathon never got to finish his sentence. The fear pellets never left his pocket. The figure struck with such speed, he couldn’t even scream, and in moments it was over. The only evidence of him ever being there was a single fresh red streak across the wall, and even that was soon forgotten as the lights were switched off, and darkness flooded the room.


End file.
